Don't worry
by beautifulXflowerXJo
Summary: Harry tries to calm Draco down while his wife is giving birth. DracoHermione. FutureFic. OneShot.


_**Disclaimer: **__**I don't own **__**Harry Potter**__**! **__**It belongs to J. K. Rowling. **__**The idea/storyline is also not mine, so I don't want anybody saying that I stole it, passing it off as mine! I did warn =]]**_

Draco Malfoy is in the waiting room with Harry, who is half-heartedly fidgeting with his wand. Both of them are distracted, and Draco paces back and forth repeatedly. Harry's eyes follow him as he sits down, gets up and paces back and forth again, his brow tightly furrowed with anxiety. Harry feels compelled to say something in an attempt to ease the tension in the room.

"Er... why don't you sit down, Draco? I'm sure she's doing just fin—" he's cut off by a clearly audible groan coming from down the hall. Draco stops in his tracks and turns a black look on his now friend.

"Shut up, Harry." He snarls. Harry is sure he just gnashed his teeth.

Neither of them speak for a few minutes and an anxious silence settles between them. Draco resumes his pacing, and he glances through is open door down the hallway towards another wide wooden door right at the end every so often, clearly hoping someone will come out to inform him of what is occurring behind it. Nobody does, though, and Harry feels the need to break the silence again.

"You know, I bet she's fine. It can't be that much longer, can it? She's probably... you know... just finishing up."

"_Finishing up?_ _What_ do you think is going on in there, a bloody broom-polishing party? That's my _wife _giving birth to my _child _in there. Now _shut up, _Potter, or you'll spend the rest of your life chained to the highest Hogwarts tower!"

"Er... yes." Harry says meekly, and he sits heavily in one of the chairs, scuffing the ground with his shoe. An anxious Draco is even more difficult than an obnoxious Draco, which is really saying something. Although the anxiety is fairly understandable. Childbirth is obviously a sensitive subject for the former Slytherin Prince, given the nature of his mother's death. Harry prays that all will go well for _this _generation, because he knows Draco would never be able to bear it if it did not.

Another low groan of effort and exertion cuts into the silence which has fallen again, and Draco looks stricken. If it weren't such a tense situation, Harry would have been pleased for the chance to make a witty comment about his doleful expression, but he decides it might not be a wise idea with Draco being so highly strung.

"Where is that damned midwife?" Draco snaps as the hardly-muffled sounds continue. He stomps back and forth, twisting his hands. Merlin eyes him warily. "She's supposed to be keeping me informed!"

"Well... I think she might be a bit busy in there. You know... Delivering the—" Harry begins helpfully.

"_I know what she's doing, __Potter__" _Draco swings around. Harry ducks, thinking Draco might just lose control and fling his fist at his head or somewhere equally painful. Draco glances at Harry and sighs, collapsing into the chair next to Harry's. "Sorry," he says grudgingly.

"Er, that's all right."

"D'you think I can go in?" Draco says distractedly. Harry looks apprehensive, listening to the distinctly pained noises currently emanating from the room at the end of the hall.

"Well now might not be the most convenient time for them..." Harry says, but Draco doesn't seem to hear.

"Yeah. I'm going in." He says decisively, and before Harry can say or do anything, Draco is halfway down the corridor. Harry dashes after him, alarmed, but the blonde is already knocking on the double doors, wincing at the loud screech which suddenly comes from behind it.

A very irritated-looking grey haired woman opens the door a crack, and Harry backs away from the fierce look she turns on both him and Draco.

"For pity's sake, Mr. Malfoy, are you _aware _of what your wife is currently doing?" she snaps. Apparently usual etiquette doesn't apply to this woman, for she wastes no time in scolding the Prince of Slytherin like a little boy.

"Of course I know! I need to see she's all right."

"She's as well as she can be, but you absolutely have to go _away_, Mr. Malfoy." The woman makes as if to close the door again, but another voice comes from inside.

"Is that Draco?" the voice is strained and panting, but clearly heard. Draco looks rather like a puppy who has just heard his master, for his eyes light up at the familiar voice and he looks pleadingly at the old woman. "Let him come in." groans the voice.

The woman, turns from the door, disapproving, and does not stand aside. She closes the door momentarily and a brief, hushed conversation ensues.

"You want him in here while you're like this?"

"Yes! He ought to be here! This is _his fault!_"

"But it's not proper—" the words are cut off by a shrill cry and several rough, panting breaths. There is a pause, followed quickly by a groan.

"Get Draco in here right _now!_"

The door opens, and Draco instantly rushes in. Harry blinks, wondering what he's supposed to do now. He tries not to, but he half-glances through the door to see inside since the old lady is nowhere in sight. Presumably she is too busy with the birth to chase him off, and so he lingers in the doorway.

Eventually he sidles in warily, his eyes firmly fixed on the floor. Nobody seems to notice. He peeks around the screen which blocks the way, and he can see a glimpse of the small crowd assembled at the bed, upon which is the source of all Draco's anxiety. He only glances for a second to check all is going well before he hastily retreats. It was enough for him to catch a glance at the lady herself.

Her long, brown hair is loose and tousled and slightly damp with sweat, and her face looks pale and strained, but she looks beautiful just the same. The former Gryffindor Princess and Draco's wife, Hermione Grang—, uhm, Malfoy. She's never been one for convention and nothing has changed today since Draco is now not waiting outside during the birth of his child as he ought to be.

Instead he is sat with her on the bed, the sleeves of his loose shirt pushed up as he holds her against him, murmuring words of comfort as she grips his hands and strains to bring their baby into the world.

"Did I ever tell you I _hated _you, Draco Malfoy?" Hermione gasps "Look what you've _put me through!"_ She is shaking with the effort, and Draco only pulls her closer, holding her hand and stroking her hair.

"You're nearly there now. Come on. Push, push, push!" exclaims a female voice brightly. It's the midwife, positioned at the end of the bed. She is a cheerful, stout lady who doesn't seem at all perturbed by what seemed to be a rather messy procedure, and she pats Hermione's leg encouragingly. Hermione doesn't look very encouraged though, and she glares at the woman before taking a deep breath and rallying her strength.

Suddenly, high pitched crying starts wafting from the bed, wailing in a tiny little voice. The baby had arrived. Harry hears Draco's delighted laugh, and he waits a few minutes before he dares to creep round the screen. What he sees would be enough to melt the hardest of hearts.

Hermione appears to be half laughing, half crying as she is handed a little bundle of soft blankets to cradle in her arms. Draco is gazing down at it with the gentlest expression Harry has ever seen on his face, seeming utterly enraptured. Hermione is leaning against him and his arms are around her, one hand moving to gently stroke the baby's cheek. They are a moment of pure peace and familial bliss in that instant and it makes Harry feel awkward for intruding upon it.

They are so focused on the baby – understandably so – that they do not notice him loitering in the shadows. Draco kisses Hermione's temple and she turns her face to him, her smile brilliant in spite of her pale and tired face.

"I'm so proud of you," Draco murmurs. "I love you."

"Yes, well, you're going to have to convince me of that quite impressively after everything I just went through." Hermione sounds sleepy, but the playful tone still comes through. "You owe me for this. It was all your doing."

"Hey, last time I checked it took _two _of us to make this happen." Draco replies softly, smiling as he smoothes the blankets.

"Mmm, well, I didn't see _you _screaming and pushing a baby through your—"

"Yes, all right, I agree. You amaze me. You always do." Draco interjects hastily. Hermione laughs and shifts slightly. She leans in to kiss Draco, and their lips are about to meet when Harry takes a step back to try and leave without being noticed and trips over a bucket in the process.

"Aaargh!" He is sent sprawling with a loud yell and a thump. Draco and Hermione both jump and the baby immediately starts wailing. Harry looks up at them sheepishly and sees them staring at him like he's grown a second head.

"_Potter__! _Are you completely _mad? _What on _Earth _are you doing here?" Draco exclaims incredulously.

"Uhh..." Harry says, picking himself and clutching the bucket shiftily. "Cleaning?" He suggests with a hopeful smile. Draco just stares at him like he's insane.

"Well. Ah, I'll just get out of your way..." Harry says, looking guiltily at Hermione, who is occupied with soothing the crying baby. He starts to back out sheepishly.

"Harry." Draco says in that typical _I-Don't-Think-So_ tone.

Harry turns around and smiles warily.

"Well you might as well come in and meet our son then, don't you?" Draco's tone is patronising, but he half-smiles at his friend. Harry thinks nothing will spoil his mood on this day, and he grins back, eagerly striding over to the bedside and peering down at the bundle in Hermione's arms. He has stopped crying and Hermione smiles at Harry and turns slightly so the baby faces him.

Harry looks down at the tiny face, pink and rather squashed-looking in an oddly endearing way. He grins broadly, and the baby squints up at him with newborn-blue eyes in an expression which, for a fleeting moment, Harry thinks looks so much like Draco that his own eyes widen. Maybe it was a trick of the light...

"He's beautiful." Harry says sincerely. Draco smiles proudly, fixated on his son, and he nods vaguely. "What are you going to call him?"

"Hmm. Draco Junior?" Draco says with a wink at Hermione.

"Ha, ha. I don't think so. Remember who did all the work here?" Hermione interjects with a snort. Then she yawns tiredly, causing Draco to raise his eyebrows and rise from his position next to her.

"Time you got some rest." He says tenderly. He reaches out for the baby and Hermione carefully and trustingly hands him to his father, smiling sleepily as she does.

Draco kisses her cheek and holds the baby against himself without any of the awkwardness that one might expect from a new father. He stands, glancing up at Harry as he adjusts his son carefully, and Harry takes the hint. He smiles slightly to each of them before turning to leave quietly.

As he walks out, Harry can't help but glance over his shoulder to look at the little family again. It makes him smile to see Draco, normally so cocky and powerful, standing with the tiny baby held reverently against his shoulder, softly rocking him, quiet as a lamb. Hermione is lying on her side, her eyes closing drowsily as she watches her husband and her son. They make such a beautiful scene of happy serenity today.


End file.
